Player of Games
by NotPaul
Summary: Minecraft is no other than game, and STEVEs are just projects. What if it is different for our protagonist? What if there is something outside the unseen borders of Minecraft? He will find out that his world is not as big as he thought, and someone is going to show him that there is something outside the 'cube'.
1. Prologue

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Beforehand,

I thank you for:

\- **BlackDragon41**, an amazing senpai and an amazing writer-

\- **ArchertheWarlock,** an awesome fella-

\- **Exb756** for the inspirations from his stories to start this story-

\- and more others that I talked to and are great friends, I thank all of you -

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**.**

**WARNING:** _This story contains a different-named Steve (still 'steve', but later will have different name), different-named Herobrine, the authors that kindly have let me include them as avatars in this story, some OCs, and some sci-fi/fantasy/adventure setting. Please get off immediately to avoid useless hate messages. Also, if I may ask, please give me suggestions for this story. Basically, it's an idea that I developed for some time. It's ok if not a lot of people like it; I don't mind. Suggestions are greatly appreciated.  
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_Also, I am sorry for grammar and spelling mistakes. My grammar is not advanced and I'm not a native English speaker. _

_Story does** not** include **youtubers** and obvious romance._

**_Minecraft and all characters and stuff belonged to Mojang._**

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_**Player of Games**_

_Minecraft fan-made fiction_

* * *

**Prologue/**

_A Day for a Miner_

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His name is Steve Kravvt.

When people asked him who he is, his answer will be 'a humble miner living in a crevice in a mountain, over to the south-east and beyond a vast river'. He lives in a land called Minecraftia, and he is in the middle of his thirties. His favourite attire is a teal t-shirt and purple pants and grey boots.

He was a man who mined every day at least one hour, digging out various materials and valuables, starting from a heap of coal to some diamonds weighed more than 5 pounds, and also a farmer and owned a barn of every animal he would sell at the end of the week, and some for his food supplies.

Steve has a daily routine he does each day, which included waking up early in the morning, just as the sun rose from the hills in front of his home. First, he would dust up everything in his two-roomed house, sweep the floor, clean the window panes and wash his clothes, giving them a good scrub and dumped them in a cauldron of boiling water, before hanging them outside. After the hard work of keeping his house clean as per usual, he would take his woollen towel and a clean set of clothes and took a shower inside his own piston bathroom, and brushed his teeth. Sometimes he will shave when his goatee got too long.

Sometime later he would be in front of the furnace, blowing the charcoal to start a fire and cooked himself some chicken or fish and baked himself a bread, and filled his stomach before grabbing a pick and an iron helmet and went to the mines just in a ravine situated beside his mountain and work. After he mined as long as he desired, he would bring all that he acquired back to his house, sort them out in the storage and write them down on his journal to keep track what he sold and what he owned. He would then feed his livestock and collect the eggs from his chickens, and sorted them out as well. Other than that, he would also go to the top of a small hill beside his home, and farm, harvesting wheat and pumpkins and potatoes, and replant them, and store them in a small grain silo, secured inside chests.

Usually, he finished all his chores by evening, before the sun sets. By then he would retire to the woollen couch in front of the fireplace, of course after heating the water in a cauldron and give himself a warm, warm bath. He would use a white sweater he knitted himself, and get comfy while writing a journal and having his toes warmed by the warmth of the hearth. Sometimes he has a blanket on as well. Anything that would make one relaxed and content will be in his disposal. This behaviour will continue until Steve feels his eyes grow heavy and went to the bed to sleep and start another day.

As he lay down on his bed, crossing his arms behind his head and stare at the ceiling, Steve has some thoughts going around his head. One of them felt grateful because his life is far from poverty. In this place, the villagers trade, but with all that he has, he has achieved all that he needed. A nice bed, a warm home located in solitude, enough food even though he retired. Maybe one day he'll find a soulmate and live together and have children together, although he hasn't found one just yet, but he will surely find one. They will live in a nice, bigger home. They will farm and be together until they die. And to be honest, Steve wished it just goes on so fast, these days of solitude. It is pretty quiet here, and villagers aren't really good people to talk with, at least for him.

There are also these times he thought that his life has been too easy. There are mobs, of course, and creepers that seemed to invade his lawn every single night and exploded smack in the middle of the gravel road he made to the village. Still, all these things are starting to bore him a little, despite his everyday mood to always smile and cheer up and believe there's an adventure out there, and he only has to keep believing. He always comes back after being dead anyway, so why bother?

Another side of him objected, though. After that 'incident' of the man with glowing eyes, he vowed to never venture to the open more than 1000 blocks outside his home. He is safe in here, safe inside the rock and the shell protecting him from outside harm. Why would he venture too far and repeating that mistake again?

That is the only thing stopping him from doing anything stupid. Of course, the incident with 'him', the name the villagers whisper to one another like a dark taboo, and the atmosphere becomes twice heavier. Sure, there are no incidents there, but still, people are scared out of their wits when that name rung in the air, shaking everyone and vowed to never talk about it again.

The name, Herobrine.

Steve had met him, and less to say, he would not wish to remember what had happened with 'him'. Let's just say it was worse than having a creeper exploding in front of your face.

He would not dare.

And so, his thoughts for the day ended as he closed his eyes and succumbed to a deep sleep.

He's happy.

Happy with this life.

Or is he?

* * *

_"STEVE0-01A is undergoing through a process of thinking outside the 'cube of protection,"_

Screens illuminated the vast room, filled with dark creatures, organized and sitting on metallic chairs, nimble, long fingers quickly made their way, pressing and typing and reading in incredible speed. Their eyes glow in the dark, and they are not speaking in the language we, humans, speak. They speak the tongues of lost language, and their eyes glows in the dark, blaring purple, despite the blue screens in front of them. There, in the center, stood another one of the dark beings, with its skin wrinkled and pale like an old man, and hunched back. The eyes are still glaring with a malicious ferocity, and its teeth, though still intact, are cracking and bending in old angles.

_"The first STEVE, I see..."_ He spoke, turning to the screen as the projected image of the miner sleeping was shown on the radar, his chest rising and falling, clearly seen. The creature smiled at the sleeping man, its lips chipped and its teeth bared.

_"Are you sure we are going to do this, your Mightiness?"_ one of the dark figures asked monotonously, eyes never leaving the screen. _"The subject is, of course, a suitable vessel for both the 'crystal' and you. He has the perfect balance."_

_"Ah, yes, of course..."_ The leader chuckled, looking at its own hands, brittle and dry. _"This body of your kind, the Jetrenekth kind, aren't too strong to handle my power and let me stay in the midst of all of you. The young man shall fit perfectly, just like that boy has."_ He clicked his tongue and balled his fist._ "Such a shame. Turns out, humans do work better to leech upon, bu no matter; for now, you are enough." _

_"Ah yes, the boy,"_ another interjected. _"He is a balance too. Not powerful enough to hold the 'crystal', but nevertheless, the transfer works perfectly. Even better, to be said." _

_"Such a shame." _

_"Such a shame."_

"This man is dangerous," the old one slowly made its way to its chair, hidden in the shadows, as purple particles floated behind it, before slowly vanishing. _"Yet, he does not know anything. If we play the cards right, soon everything will fall into place."_

_"We, are the spirit of deceit, anyway." _

_"Indeed." _

_"STEVE04-12 has defeated an Enderdragon." _

_"Send one of us to use him as a vessel; see if it works." _

_"STEVE1096-31 has died due to pressure." _

_"Discard him."_

And thus, the cycle continues, and they talk as if they are monitoring a herd of livestock, as the old one sat in the middle, watching everything unfold, his hands clasped in front of his face.

_"Your Mightiness, there has been a breach in one of our systems." _

He perked and rose.

_"The boy. He is trying once more to breach into the 'cube of protection." _

_"Let him be." _

_"Your M-"_

The old one raises his hand, and turned back to his seat.

_"He never succeeded. He will never succeed."_ He inquired. _"He is just a boy." _

_"Nevertheless, with a part of you in it, he is dangerous." _

_"He just inherited a small portion of me. It is not a big matter. If he did break in, it will be an advantage to us." _

_"Yes, Your Mightiness."_

Nothing else was heard except the statuses of thousands of the STEVE projects, living their lives in large cubes just underneath them. They will never know. They will never care. They will never wake up.

It's just a game.

* * *

**Well, so far that's all I get for this story.**

**And yes_, Jetrenekth_ are Endermen, and this is inspired from exb756's story 'The Gathering Storm' where the Endermen are the bad guys. I have not read other stories that that, and I've favorited some but no time to read. I am thoroughly sorry. He is a great writer.**

**Anyway, it's just the prologue. Steve has a name, so stay tuned. **

**Also, give me comments, ok? If it's good or whatever. Nevertheless, still posting it, though. **

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 1: Protagon1st

"Things come and go. The stronger will dispatch the weaker. The predator will devour their respective preys. The one who consumes more will be the top of the food chain. This is _**Natural Selection.**_"

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_**Player of Games/ **_

**Chapter 1/**

Protagon1st/

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* * *

_There are a few things one must know in living a life. _

_Life for people can be a lot of things. For those with a religion, it can either to praise their god(s), appease them with their existence, or probably believe that they are just here for the sake of amusement from the gods. For those without religion, perhaps they believe that the meaning of their life is to prove to the other living beings how much they worth. Life can be a small thing for people, for most of the time people forget how short their time can be. Life can be a valuable thing for those with a short time. Life can be the ultimate book of knowledge for others to learn from. Life can be a hideous monster lurking in the dark and pulling people into dark chasms of depression and sadness. _

_People view life differently, but every single sentient beings can agree on one thing: _

_Without a purpose, life means nothing. _

_That is why people went down the road of life. They are searching for a purpose. A reason why they exist right now. A reason why they are made for.  
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_So when one find a purpose to his life for real, the meaning of his existence, by god, he will hold on to that. Because it is his 'truth' and key to his whole life. Because one's purpose is there to remind oneself what made him like this now, and is the red string that connected all his actions, his goals, and his mind in his whole life. _

_And so a person's 'purpose' itself is his life. _

_And by god,_

_when you find your purpose, _

_hold on to it. _

_That is what my friend told me._

* * *

By now, Steve has reached level 35 in his experience bar. He has enough to enchant another diamond sword of his own and hopefully he can get an addition of a flame apparatus, or better, he can enchant a bow and hope he get another infinite bow.

He lowered the diamonds and stick on a crafting table and slowly, it morphed. The two diamonds slowly melting and molding together as the top grid part of the table starts glowing, like being slowly shaped by invisible force, and it slowly churned and mixed, like dense liquid colliding into one. The edges of the morphing diamonds slowly sharpened and flattened as the other blunt end snaked out and pulls the stick into it, wrapping around it like a strong outer shell, and two ribbon-like strands slithered out from the blade, wrapping around the stick and morphing into leather as the base slowly forms a hilt, and in less than a minute, a diamond sword is on the table, and Steve picked it up. He never knew how this happened, but no matter. He got his diamond sword.

He looked at the glinting blade for a moment and swung the blade around, testing it. It is light and durable, just like what he wanted. The glow of the sword also always caught his interest. This is why he likes diamonds. They are unique. They are wonderful.

After a few minutes of testing, he sat down as he slowly traced the blade. Indeed, he loves diamonds, but somehow, it doesn't excite him as much as when he made his first diamond sword. Aren't these things getting a bit boring now? It's not like this is the first time he have three swords in and 35 EXP points. It has been the, what, 200ish time? His first diamond sword was about two decades ago. Although it is indeed true that diamonds are still exciting to find and is a challenge to get, it's as if slowly and slowly, the diamonds he hoarded gets duller and duller, and collecting them loses its value from time to time.

Moreover, throughout his life, he's always lonely. All that can actually make him less lonely is mining, occasionally crashing to mobs and all, but it's fun. As he grows older and he collected more diamonds and slain more mobs and acquire their loots, things are getting... monotone and boring. As if it's just going around and around in a circle. There is nothing new going on. Just the same things, same trades, same villagers, and same boring lifestyle. It's not like he wanted anything bad to happen to him. The peace is... quite unsettling for him, after all these years. The villagers doesn't seem to go well with him. Their eyes seemed dead and they speak as if they were just puppets. There are nobody else but him.

He twirled his blade once more before sheathing it and sighed softly to himself. He doesn't get it. Something feels off. Long, long time ago he remembered there used to be a lot of people around him, but it was so long ago. He doesn't remember why. He heard screams too, but why? What screams?

All he remembered is that he woke up and... he was here.

Steve placed the sword aside. Right now, enchanting anything seems boring to him. Everything is dull and grey. He had everything. He found pink sheep and breed them for the villagers and trading. He found emeralds and diamonds. He has a large farm and a house that will ensure 100 percent mob free.

Then what should he do now?

He ruffled his hair and sighed deeply. Times like this are those times where you just want to lie down and sleep and wish the next day has a better challenge in it.

Maybe he should go to bed.

* * *

Our protagonist, a man who had forgotten his true name, the first STEVE, is unaware that his life is secluded in a large cube. The Cube of Protection is what 'the dark creatures' call them. These large cubes are hosted in a large, dark dome, where all STEVEs are held in.

Whereas the entities that the Cubes hold are called STEVEs, entities with unimaginable source of aura and magic that can withstand all the power of the universe, if they use it properly. The dark ones called them_ Enstes_, while we call them humans. They are a source of energy, sentient enough to have their own will and choose whom they wish to be.

But for the Dark Ones, the one they called the dark magic, or Enders, humans are nothing but energy source and a suitable vessel.

And of all STEVES they retain so far, only one that manages to catch the dark magic's attention.

The first child they captured from the war.

The first STEVE.

And the one that survived the longest.

He has grown now, and sooner or later, his body will be suitable to be the main vessel for the dark magic. His mentality is weak, and the normal, everyday life of the little secluded world makes his soul bland and frail.

A little bit more, and it will be easy to get him.

Aside him, there is one more person.

A boy they acquired from the 67th War.

They never named him. All they call him is The Anomaly, or the _Boy_.

The first successful subject infused with the dark magic and the last one by far, which is also a failure since he still retain his consciousness.

There is one thing they know.

He is dangerous.

* * *

A lone figure watches in the darkness, in the midst of the silence, perched on a pipe leading towards a cube. The air is cold and smelled like iron and rubbing alcohol, but it always smelled like that. After all, the Dome must be repeatedly cleaned and maintained to the extent that the STEVEs will never know that they are living in a lie and a game.

He's here to stop that.

The figure stood up, wrapped in a tattered brown, hooded cloak. Purple light flooded and lighted the figure's face as he opened his eyes, partially exposing half of his face. Now that the Wardens have moved into another cube to mend a small damage he made, he should have time to break in.

This time, for real.

Two years is long enough.

In a split second, nothing is left of the figure, nothing but purple and black dust and particles. He has now moved towards a cube, teleporting in a zig-zag pattern as he ran on the tip of his toes. There are no more time. The war is getting tenser right now, and the only secret trump card that none of the parties know is him.

He's the one that will turn the course of this war.

A loud beeping resounded in the air as the figure blinked, growling. He really had no time for this.

Two mechanic figures launched from the ceiling, shrieking in a static, metallic sound as they slammed towards the surface of the cube, landing on pipes extending from their base that resembles tendrils with claws attached on its bases. The mechanical beings seemed to lock on the running figure's position before moving towards him at an alarming speed, while something resembling a turret produced from their sides, aiming at the figure.

Of course, the hooded figure knew there are two things that are following behind him. He is very aware of this, but he is really out of time.

One of them shot a burst of purple beam at his feet, which the figure dodges as he swerved to his right, almost tripping on his own heels. More bursts of beams came, and he is still running, trying to outpace the Wardens.

The beings warbled in an unknown, robotic language before one leaped at him and shoots the beam. It was lucky. The explosion caught up with the figure, sending him crashing and toppling to a side, temporarily dazed.

* * *

_"Your Mightiness, 'He' has successfully breached in."_

The Old One looked from one of the screens to another. Seemed like the boy has moved stealthier and more agile than normal. But again, he is out of time, and so are they.

_"His trajectory, please."_

_"The Main Cube of Protection, towards the first STEVE."_

The Old One mused, his fingers trailing on his wrinkled chin.

_"...So that is his goal after all these years."_ He turned away. _"He cannot be that strong. Send three more Wardens at him and see what he can do."_

_"Your Mightiness, is it not wise to send half of the Wardens we have against him?"_

_"No. It will be too late by then, and the rest must nurture and tend to the cubes."_ He looked back at them. _"And I wish to see how strong the Boy can be and what is his true goals. If indeed he is going to get our precious Enstes, then so be it."_

_"But Your Mightiness-"_

_"Say no more. I have a plan."_ He said sternly. _"The more you all speak and wonder, the more the Ender in him hears our voices, and our plan will go haywire. Let us make this easy on him and see what he is capable of. He might be dangerous and a thorn in our side. However, I shall remain you all that we are the Spirits of Deceit. The Dark One that Lies. It's our job to ensure everyone living in lies, no? And that includes the Boy himself."_

There was silence as the other dark ones absorbed the Old One's words into their mind, taking it in.

_"He thought he can fool us, but with a piece of ourselves inside of him and the constant watch we have on him, he won't win. Sooner or later, he will fight against himself and his own people, and we will flourish. Fear not, all of you. Surely, he is nothing but a secret pawn for us. We will play him like we played with 'Him' some time ago." _

_"...As you wish, your Mightiness."_

The rest of the dark figures went back towards their screens, observing the STEVEs and chanting their statuses back and fro again as the Dark Ones looked back at the main screen.

What an interesting little boy.

* * *

The figure does not take his time to get up. The moment he snapped out of his daze, he quickly leaped up to his feet and dodges as soon as a metal claw slammed to where his head was. With a swift movement, the figure slid down and dodged another incoming attack which came almost after the blow, and dashed towards the robotic being, unsheathing something from under his sleeve.

It was an arm-blade mounted on the back of his hand in the color of honey-gold. The blade itself resembled a sharpened orange crystal, which seemed to glow as he lashed at the robotic being, and slowly turning white, like an enchanted sword. With a single swipe of his arm, the blade went through the mechanical being, slicing through easily and leaving melted iron mark on its wake, before the contraption split into two and dropped to the ground, no longer moving.

The cloaked figure teleported away just before another beam exploded on where he was standing and has leaped on top of another remaining Warden, and drove the blade into its head along with his hand and yanks out some cables, which fizzes and crackled with electricity. The machine shrieked before going around in a random direction, unable to control its movements. The figure turned the machine with a yank of a cable and made it shoot the purple beams at the other incoming Wardens, who had just arrived and are airborne. One went down after a direct hit from the beam while the other two shoots back.

Deciding that the broken Warden has no more use for him, the figure ripped the cables off and lifted the now immobilized mecha before swinging it around and tossing it towards the incoming Wardens, who were just shooting at him. The beam came in contact with the machine propelled against them and detonated it, catching the incoming reinforcements in the purple-colored explosion, and not long after, parts and gears dropped and clinked on the top of the Cube as the figure sighed and once more, sheathed the orange blade under his sleeve.

The figure then produced six ender pearls from under his coat and placed it on the floor. He looked at them as he pushed his long bangs away from his face to the right side, showing a pair of obsidian-colored eyes, but something is different. The light did not emit from his irises or sclera, but in fact, it emitted from within the pupils itself, which is glowing in a soft magenta glow, in contrast of the black iris surrounding it. The figure looked at the pearls as they slowly shake, and the particles emitted by his eyes slowly were absorbed into the pearls as they glow purple as well, and slowly lifts up from the cube's surface as it slowly glows brighter.

There should be more Wardens coming soon, but their programs will deny them to enter the cube.

Which means he has to move fast, and hopefully, based on his calculations and trajectory reading , this will be the right cube.

The first pearl shook midair before it shot up, some tens of blocks before it dove down at high sped and crashed towards the cube's surface, and it exploded, sending a ripple of purple hexagon-pattern pulsing from the crash area throughout the surface, like water ripple. A second pearl followed through, then the third, smashing themselves towards the surface as the ripples glow brighter and pulsates quicker. By the time the fifth pearl came in contact with the surface, there was a loud explosion and a sound of glass shattering, and the hexagon patterns flicker, no longer glowing.

He has destroyed the barrier.

He looked at the sixth pearl before grabbing the floating orb with his right hand as it pulsates in his arm and he looked down at the surface, before slamming his fist down on it repeatedly, creating a crack. He launched some more violent blows at the surface and, along with the pearl, a single block on the surface breaks and smashes into black-colored pieces of concrete and steel. He peered down into it and swallowed.

By the time the rest of the Wardens came for reinforcements, nothing is left in the scene except parts of destroyed machines and a small hole on the cube, which is slowly sealing itself.

* * *

Steve grunted. Tonight is truly noisy. The thunderstorm seemed to come earlier than he expected. Great, instead of sleeping, he will be up and think too much, again.

How annoying.

He looked out from the window beside his bed and yawned. Strange. It's not raining, but the thunders are so loud. Well, either it's happening far away or it's just a sign it's gonna rain soon. He sighed and uses a hand to slowly wipe his face and pressed on his tired eyelids, before he took his t-shirt from the chair and wears it.

If he can't sleep, maybe some heated milk can help.

He drowsily kicked the sheets off him and rubbed his eyes, looking out of the window as another rumble of thunderous boom filled the air.

Strange... He didn't see any lightning.

He shrugged. Lightnings go around fast. It's not surprising if he missed one.

He decided to go to the kitchen and make some milk. Deep thoughts can come later.

* * *

**FINALLY Updated this fic after times and times of re-writing. **

**There will be a LOT of new concepts in this fic, especially why there is a hybrid and he has orange blade. It will be explained later. I'm just trying to pace this story well and write longer than I usually do. **

**Anyway, on to the answers!**

**1\. **_BlackDragon41_**_: Ahh, thank you! And yeah, timezones really suck so... usually I update about afternoon here, which means everyone's midnight and most people are probably asleep. And yeah, endermen are the bad guys (This is kind of inspired by Exb756's story where endermen are the bad guys. I did kinda mention this in the beginning) The explanations of the vessels will come in later chapters and so are these enders. After some time developing I think this story kinda resembles Matrix in my eyes, so I'm gonna try and develop it even further to make it more interesting and original. And ahahaha yes, I think I might do updates in a circle, so all of my stories can still get updated._ **

**2\. **_xEnderAwesomex**: Those questions will be explained in future chapters. A bit waaay fr out there but just be patient! ^ ^**_

**3\. **_WH1T3R4V3N_**: Thanks for the compliments! ^ ^ Thank you!**

**4\. **_A. N. Onymous_**_: I will, and thank you!_ **

**Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 2: I22ational

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_"_They told themselves that they want to live in the 'truth', but their hearts want to stay in the lies._**Who is the liar now?**__"_

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_**Player of Games/**_

**Chapter 2/**

I22ational/

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As usual, Steve woke up early in the morning. The plan is: As usual. Kicking the sheets away, grabbing a new t-shirt, cleaning the two story house, and taking the laundry basket outside to wash and then dump them in a cauldron of boiling water, hung them, took a bath and so on. The usual routine, as if he is living any other day.

But something felt different, today.

Steve noticed this feeling the moment he opened the front door, laundry basket in hand and looking out to the freshly-drenched trees and grass. To be honest, he never liked it when something feels 'different'. It made him feel anxious, worried, as if a change means a complete overhaul of his entire life. He woke up thinking about that at times, and he felt dread in his chest and voices whispering in the back of his head, telling him that if he dared to do something a little different asides what he had known so far, he will face problems, then threatening his own life, and then, death.

As he walked to the stream and lowered his basket down, rolling his sleeves absentmindedly, he had a thought. He wondered if the villagers had this kind of mindset. They always do the same all the time, they never seem to cease doing what he described as boring as it could ever get. His guess was villagers lack the sense of boredom. They only does it because everyone else does, wearing tunics even if they are in the middle of a desert, walking silently with those nasally sounds of theirs and trade. Trade, trade, trade. He thought his life is pretty bland, and perhaps theirs could be called even worse, if there is a blander taste than flavorless.

Then again, despite his life being boring to a degree, he never tried to set foot beyond the boundary which only lies in his imagination.

Why?

He started dousing the clothes into the stream, and watch as they seemingly turn a little darker as water seeped in. Using a hand to keep them in place, he rummaged his pocket with the other, looking for awkward potion to wash them with.

The moment he turned back to his clothes, however, one had slipped and went down the stream. Color of blue. His only third piece of trousers.

"No! No, no- ah, Notch almighty and above..." His words trailed, before followed by a loud grunting of irritation as he stood up and dumped the wet clothes into the basket, and carefully raced down the stream for the article of clothing, swearing all the way. It's not easy to get trousers tailored, and even if they are sold, they are expensive as much as Ghast tears and Pigmen heads combined. He's very determined to not lose this one, he was tired of being leeched by those big-nosed people, and there is no way he knows how to make himself trousers of that quality.

"Hey! Wait up! Stop!" He cried out, being careful as he went down a rocky slope. Water currents have no ears, and like normal streams, they went on in the same pace as the poor human tried to catch up. Steve kept on going, past the tall spruce trees and grazing wild sheep and down the vast river.

He ran, hopping over a boulder in his way and under the branches and past the shrubs, and raced after the trousers, but alas, he was outmatched, and it disappeared from the corner of his vision.

He groaned loudly in exasperation. He is not slaying pigs left and right for emeralds for a brand new pair of pants, and those are not even worn out yet. Fortunate that he decided to not give in and walked forward, hoping the clothing will be stuck somewhere in the way between the rocks, just like twigs and leaves does.

He wasn't wrong. A few good minutes of walking later, he spotted it on a young log lying perpendicular to the stream, thankfully, and he carefully went in for a closer look. The stream is pretty strong by now, but it wasn't too deep, and he doesn't mind getting his knees wet. He carefully walked into the water, and made his way slowly to the trousers.

Halfway through, his mind began to start reeling with worry and anxiety once more. What if he got there and the trousers were washed away? It doesn't look like it was hanging firmly against the log. Or worse, what if he slipped and hit his head? Or what if...

He shook his head. No way. He is too paranoid. Always is, from Notch knows when. He was just a little frightened since he was decently too far away from home.

All he has to do was to get the cloth and go home. After all, most of his thoughts were just inner fear and will never happen unless he's careful.

Unfortunately, this time fate seemed to have another plan.

There was a rumble, and Steve flinched, looking around. Seeing nothing, he slowly made his way to the cloth and grabbed it, grinning in victory with a breathed 'yes' through his teeth. He pulled away before he saw the water seemingly rose up a little more to half his thighs and he looked back, which is almost never a good thing.

He was face to face with waves no taller than three feet, but it rushed past him with such a force, he tumbled down before he could as much can scream, and grabbed on to the tree trunk's side as he hold his breath. It was storming last night, maybe somehow a nearby stream was suddenly flooded as the storms moved towards the mountains, and he didn't even took it to consideration. He felt the water going over his head, but he was not safe. He felt the log move slightly and he tried to use his other arm to get a better grip, that pair of trousers be damned right now, but it moved even more...

And it turned, following the stream as the current took it, and his hold slipped.

* * *

A certain boy sat at the edge of the stream with an arm bound by wolf pelt, chewing on half-cooked wolf meat, the pupils of his eyes glowing dimly in the dark as he stared straight at the makeshift fire he made. He was not really expecting to eat wolf meat, of all things, but the pack attacked first, and he doesn't really want to let such easy targets go that easily.

The sun is setting, and the stream finally calmed after the overflow earlier, and he really wished he didn't have to get wet after all that. It was surprising that the Wardens didn't even bother coming in here. He bet the others were just sending the rest back to their posts for now because it's not easy if a cube is left unsupervised, and they want to keep the subject pure.

Well, now that he's here, there's no way they can keep _him_ 'pure'. It's going to be so easy to break them out.

Unless... he's a total wimp.

He was going to chew on another before he saw something in the corner of his eye. He turned to see a pair of pants floating on the stream, and he raised a brow, shrugging. Poor bloke. Maybe he lost it when he bathed.

He then saw a log, and a lump on it. A blue and purple and a lump of brown, wet hair.

He stood up, looking at it. A human, a person is lying on it, and it's not a villager. And again, he decided, getting wet twice will worth it.

He stripped off his entire clothes and jumped into the stream, swimming skillfully towards the other and looked at his surroundings. There are rocks up ahead, this won't be too hard. He swam on the front end and start turning the log and kept it that way, and stopped when he head a 'thunk'. Making sure the log is secured against the rocks, he swam towards the limp figure, and gave it a poke or two.

No reaction.

But not disappearing into air, which is good. He pulled the dead weight off the log and dragged it to the shore, turning him around.

He almost fell back on his backside when he saw his face.

* * *

Steve groaned softly, clasping a hand on his face. His head hurts, and he felt warm on one side. He turned, getting direct heat radiating on his face, and he sighed in content.

He scratched his neck slightly, before adjusting himself to the pillow- no. Not pillow. Hard, rock-like round thing against the side of his head.

...Wait a second.

He quickly sat down and regretted it immediately, getting attacked by migraine and sudden nausea. He groaned again, rubbing his temples, and he thanked Notch it's gone quick.

He looked down, and screamed.

A cloaked figure rushed to the scene, arm blade ready and his eyes darted around quickly before he was met with an accusing finger right in front of his covered eyes.

"THIEF!" Came the accusation from a pretty much larger, stark-naked man on the ground, covering what dignity was left of him. "What did you do to my clothes?!"

The boy blinked, before looking at his blade, and blankly made a sudden push forward with the blade for a mock attack, and the other visibly flinched and moved away from him, crawling backwards, shielding his face with his arms as he chanted about how sorry he was, earning a cringe from the boy.

"...First of all," The boy spoke, using a gloved hand to fold his blade back to where it belonged with a 'click'. "I am no thief. My name is Nohl. Second of all, we're both males so there is no need to be so concerned about seeing each other unclothed."

"Have you no shame?" Steve retorted, though he was careful not to point and focus more on hiding himself in the shadows. "T-There is no way! No, no, I'd rather have my underwear on at least!"

"They will dry in maybe a few minutes, here, eat this as you wait." Nohl offered him a piece of cooked... meat... of something, and Steve looked at him in disbelief.

"...What meat is this?"

"Wolf meat."

"Wolf me- There is no such thing as wolf meat! And it's not even cooked well done! And oh god, did you just use a hand to hand me food?!"

This time, the boy looked perpetually irritated.

"It's called 'handing food' for a reason! What do I use, feet?"

"That's not the point! Did you wash your hands?"

"I did of course, in that river."

"When?"

"Before I adjusted the fireplace."

"No!" Steve exclaimed. "That's not hygienic! At all!"

Nohl rolled his eyes and turned around.

"This is going pretty disappointing..." He muttered under his breath and sits down, chewing the wolf meat as Steve jerked slightly, looking down and took a sharp pebble from under his thigh, flicking it away.

One side, Nohl thought, watching the older man fussing over himself, was that this kind of behavior made perfect sense. Living in a cube when everything is almost hand-fed, and nurtured, and babied, and getting food from literally anywhere makes someone really... soft. Too soft for anyone's liking, especially since outside the 'game', the world isn't like this. He would thank god if life is this simple, but it isn't, and he had lost faith long time ago anyway.

"Okay, I'm here for a reason- You know... Why don't you just... you know... stop moving so much?" He gestured with a hand. "Pebbles giving your bottom a hard time?"

"I'd rather a chair, Nohl, thank you." Came a snarky growl, as Steve adjusted his seat even more. "You get to sit on the smooth stones, of course you don't get it."

A shrug.

"If I were home right now, I'd be-" Steve paused, and got up quickly. "Home! I got to get home!"

"Everywhere is home with this kind of life." Came the answer, as he chewed through the meat once more.

"You're kidding me. I can't live naked in the middle of nowhere with only a pit of fire and it's dark outsi- IT'S DARK OUTSIDE! THE MOBS!"

"Why are you such a baby?!" Nohl stood up quickly. "This is nothing! Look, if a mob comes you can dig a hole and bury yourself in! It's easy to cheat in this world! Even dirt defies gravity!"

"Great idea!" Steve interjected, using his hands to dig on a block before stopping and looking around. "...I need at least a shovel, do you have a crafting table?"

"For heaven's sake- I guess it's wrong to think he's going to be a little more heroic..." Nohl went over to him and rolled his eyes, taking his cloak off and handed it to the confused male. "Use this! There's a village near here, I'm gonna get you some clothes, and we're moving!"

"M-Moving?" Steve looked at the young face, covered with long bangs over the eyes, before cautiously reach out to take the cloak. "And what about my clothes?"

"It's still wet, just leave it. And yep. We're leaving."

Steve quickly tied the cloak around his waist. It's not that big anyway- why did it smell like dust and burnt cloth..?

"I get to go home? Well, if we follow the way up the stream we can-"

"No, we're leaving this place."

"I know, I can show you how to get home-"

"I mean, this entire world." Nohl rolled his eyes, putting the fire out with a bucket of water and stomped on it for good measures. "Come on, let's get you clothed and we're moving."

"...huh?"

* * *

"Wait, what do you mean we're leaving this world?!" Steve asked. The two of them in the middle of a random, dark forest. Well, more like him with someone he doesn't know that look like a younger version of an adult. Steve was wearing a new set of clothes Nohl has successfully 'borrowed' from the aforementioned village, behind some shrubs, of course, while the boy leans on a tree, crossing his arms and gazing into nothing.

"If I tell you, you won't like it, so I think I'll just stay quiet and bust us out, then you won't get to ever come back in."

"What kind of reasoning is that?! That just make me even more worried than I already am!"

Nohl sighed, and turned around, sitting on the grass, and Steve jerked to a stop when his gaze turned at him, and quickly buckled his pants.

"Alright. Let's put it this way. I..." He stopped.

"...What?" Steve raised en eyebrow, the hands on the belt froze.

Nohl groaned mentally. He's going to get him out of this fake paradise, but judging from his wimpy actions, he must have accustomed to this life already. Well, how long was it, anyway? In this place, there is no sense of time. There's just darkness, a sky of metal dome, and purple glow and the smell of alcohol and machinery. Here, it's still nature but... unreal. Someone who knows of the outside world will know. It's like smelling old paper and new paper. They are paper, but they are different.

He sighed.

"...Do you want your life to change drastically, but for the better?"

Steve was stumped, looking at those concealed eyes. Well, or at least where he thinks the eyes are. He doesn't know this person, but that question seemed to hit home... somewhat.

"...What kind of question is that?" Steve asked back. "I just want to get clothes and go home..."

"What do you feel when you live in this world?" The boy continued on, and Steve felt the unseen eyes bore into his own. "Do you feel peaceful? Calm? Everything is in your palm and everything is under control? You feel like you have achieved so much, you have enough food, you have a nice, big home, you don't really have a purpose asides stumbling around and doing everything in a strict routine?"

Steve didn't answer, but he looked away. Nohl lets out a long breath through his nostrils.

"I thought so."

"How do you know all of this?" Steve muttered in disbelief. "Do you undergo the same thing? Do you have a happy life you're bored of it?"

The boy scoffed, grinning a little and fiddling his fingers together.

"So you do feel bored. And no. I wish I live in a peaceful world, like what you are living in now. I wish my world has clean air, no currency, no hatred, no hard labor..."

His eyes narrowed.

"And certainly not war."

"War...?" Steve repeated. He had never heard anyone spoke the word before, but he felt dread rising in him, and he saw things.

He saw yellow. A lot of yellow, and black. Everything was burning, and there was a lot of screaming. He swallowed, and he felt afraid, and small, and...

Hopeless...

"...an!"

Steve snapped awake from the vision, and he looked down at the smaller male, grabbing his shoulder and shaking it. He pushed the boy away slightly, irritation and old pain reflected in his eyes. He saw Nohl's eyes. They were jet black, but in the center of each orbs were of deep magenta, glowing slightly in the dark, and covered by the long hair over them. He stumbled back, and Nohl called out for him, he swore. Nohl called him...

"You know something I don't." Steve hissed accusingly, his purple eyes darted back at the younger male, and Nohl stopped in his track.

He nodded.

"You came from a 'different world'."

Another nod.

"...Just now... you called me 'Brennan'."

A pause, and another nod.

Steve grimaced, his eyes full of denial.

"I don't trust you."

* * *

_"You are not concerned about the boy, Your Mightiness."_

The Old One looked to his side, at one of his people speaking to him. He can sense some of them being quite concerned with this accident. Of course, Wardens are stationed outside the cube, just in case, and when any comes out, they will all be dispatched.

_"...Aye, I do not."_ He replied, folding his hands.

_"...What is the reason for your confidence, Your Mightiness?"_

He smirked.

_"A human who had accustomed himself to such degree of comfort and happiness will not easily leave them behind for a great change."_ He looked at the screen, showing two people standing there, in the middle of the dark forest.

_"Even though the change presented to him is the 'truth'." _

* * *

**Andd so here's chapter two!**

**Boy, it has been a long time indeed!**

**...Well I got little to no things to say asides Nohl is pronounced like 'Noah' instead for now but let's go to the questions!**

**1.**_ xEnderAwesomex_: **Thank you!**

**2.** _WolfyTheMCPlayer_: **I'll be honest... I never watched The Matrix. I'm a disgrace. Better watch it when I get my holidays!**

_3._ _WH1T3R4V3N_: **Here he is!**

**4.** _PrincessLyoka_: **No~**

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 3: Storytim3

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_"Giving up does not show the truth.__"_

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_**Player of Games/**_

**Chapter 3/**

Storytim3/

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* * *

"You have to listen to me!" Nohl rushed towards the player, who walked faster now. He grabbed the man by the arm and turn him around to face him, and continued. "You asked because you're worried, and now you opted to 'go home'?!"

"Yes! I'm not insane!" 'Brennan' exclaimed. "I have a healthy, _sane_ mind, and my healthy, sane mind said 'this boy is nuts!'"

"I am NOT nuts! I am completely sane over this course of two hellish years, and lord helped me that I am still sane!" Nohl hissed at him, his eyes glowing slightly, seething with a hint of anger, disappointment, and exasperation. "So stop being such a baby and follow me! You have no future here, but out there, you can be a hero!"

"I don't want to be a hero if that means losing my head!" The Steve sharply objected. "You might be able to hunt wolves down and eat wolf meat and 'stay sane after two hellish years', but I can't! I am a miner, a farmer, and a trader. I did so much since I was young to get where I am and have myself an amazing life with nothing to worry about, until you showed up! Like hell I would give something up for someone with Endermen eyes like you!"

"I have no clue what an 'Enderman' is, but despite having these eyes, I am still a damn human! I don't even know what they did to me, but this. This world, and everything in it are lies, LIES I tell you! They let you live in such a blissful world and suck you dry until one day you mature, but weak enough for them to prey on you and use you as their food supply! They are fattening you up!" Nohl grabbed him by the sides of his arms and starts shaking him, his face contorted in anxiety. "You have to trust me on this, Brennan! This is not fictional book; this is real! You're going to end up nowhere and dead if you stay here, and you won't be able to defend yourself! Then what?! You're just going to accept your fate?!"

"You're lying!" Steve struggled from the tenacious grip before shoving the other away from him. "What proof do you have?!"

Nohl breathed out a ragged breath. For a moment, nothing is heard but the rustling of leaves and water rushing down the stream.

"Nothing. They took everything from me. My journal, my locket, my- Aidan's family photo with you in it and your mother and your father. They took it all. They probably burned it."

Steve blinked. Aidan.

Aidan sounds familiar.

"You stop there. A family photo with me and this Aidan person?"

Nohl nodded.

"You had a family. You were so young when he lost you. He told me a lot about himself, and you." He sighed. "I... wonder where he is."

"Who is Aidan?"

"Long story short, your older brother. Aidan Ferlands, my best bud. I would show you his picture if only I had my locket, but again, it was gone. But he definitely look younger than you in it." A pause. "...Come to think of it, maybe I wasn't here for two years."

Curiosity seemed to itch its way up, crawling to his mind. 'Brennan' starts to lax a bit, his balled fist slowly relaxed to open palms on his sides.

He sighed.

"...Talk."

"...talk...?"

"Yes, talk. Explain to me more. Aidan, my 'family', the war, what happened?"

Nohl sighed.

"I'll tell you what I know. I can't tell several details... because 'they' are watching, and every information is priceless for them. They can use information as a weapon against us. But I can fill you in on some basics, especially what they already know anyway. I'll tell you the rest once we are outside and far enough."

Brennan gulped. The thought of being constantly watched started to send chills down his spine. He looked around, momentarily, but quickly focused back on Nohl once the younger one snapped his fingers for attention.

"So, let's give you a brief history lesson. Three years before...

* * *

_...the fight and discrimination, the races live in harmony. Our world is home to three races with their own intelligence, language, and history._

_Our race is called the Enstes, those with skin strong against water, those that harness technology and knowledge. Our race revolve around the need to know more, and an insatiable quench to keep building and flourish and be stronger. We learn how to make fire, then society, then electricity, and machines. We destroy, but we build again. We are weak, but together we are strong, and with tools, we survive. They call us the Builders of the Three Kingdoms._

_One of the other is called the Xhkretal, those whose skin cannot survive in the light of the day, those who come out in the night. They are strong, fast, and silent, but they roam in peace, gathering what they need in the dark before they return to where they belonged. They guard the forests and woods, the watchers of the night. They do not posses our knowledge yet understand the need for our tools, for they survive well by their own incredible strength and stealth and are content with where they are, hidden. Despite being ominous, they are quiet creatures, enjoying the moonlight and quiet chatters between each other. They are the Nightwalkers of the Three Kingdoms._

_The last one is called the Jetrenekth, those whose skin burn against water, and those with eyes as green as the forests under sunlight. They are priests, monks, living under rocky caves whose feet touches the shadows. They do not speak much, but their eyes speak a thousand words. Their skin dark as the night skies, and black hoods loomed over them. They are a peaceful society, governed by magic and prayers. They are nature lovers, living under the Dhylkass trees. They can read the sun and moon and they have knowledge of things we do not know about, things that cannot be explained with our tools nor our own knowledge. They are the Clairvoyants of the Three Kingdoms._

_The kingdoms live in peace. The kings and the leader of the Nightcrawlers meet up monthly to discuss about their own matters and end them when they went back. We trade, we farm, we flourish, we grow, and we are hand in hand to continue to the future. The three of us, we're unstoppable._

_But it all changed when we found the Godly Crystals in 5219._

_In an accident, a mine exploded near a village of Jetrenekth. Several died during the accident, and their sacred tree was blown apart to its roots. But from then our race uncovered something we had never seen before. Godly crystals, growing around the roots of the tree, and many were there._

_Our king, who had been curious for some time, brought the matter up to the King of the Jetrenekth, wanting to know more of these crystals. The Jetrenekth king, though solemn, gave him permit. The place was excavated, and the village was moved, and we dug up many of green-colored, glowing crystals._

_We found out that these crystals are stronger than that of metals. Copper, iron, even steel could not compete with their strength. We could only cut through them with extremely heated tungsten rods. Our king decided to investigate in secret, digging up villages that has been abandoned for more crystals, greedy for the knowledge. We then found out that several trees made up several different kinds of crystals. And with them we made technology far more superior than those we ever had. For those two years, we managed to speed things up in matters of our knowledge and technology and tools._

_Our king was consumed by the need to know more. It was as if he wanted to find more than five of them. He asked the King of Jetrenekth to move in with us and we will make them an amazing housing and society with the most advanced technology there is. The king of Jetrenekth was surprised and was very offended once he knew what our king had done. He considered the abandoned villages as sacred lands with people's memories in them, and for those to come back to pray to their ancestors. A disagreement was met, and for the first time, our conflict does not end in one meeting, and they left with anger and resentment in their hearts._

_Our king thought it was wise to hire the Nightwalkers for their ability to sneak and steal for the price of our technology. Their leader seemed uncertain, but she lent him several of her best troops. And so our king does things in the dark under all of our noses. He became greedy._

_Our people were also consumed by this sickness of pride. We trod on each other, and the rich survive. We changed, everything went so wrong. Discrimination happens, and the peace wavered._

_Until the year 5223._

_We had barricaded ourselves so much we only focus on ourselves. Our society is a mess, we live on our own despite the need to stick as a society. Our ego, our selfishness, and our pride govern over us. We think lowly of our brothers, the Nightcrawlers and the Jetrenekth. Our king kept doing all these without the knowledge of the Jetrenekth king._

_And we repeat our mistakes._

_Something went wrong when we were stealing more crystals. An explosion created a forest fire, which burns a lot of the Jetrenekth. Stuck between the sea and the forest, so many burned to death. The Jetrenekth king soon found out, between the bodies of his people, there are our kind, and the Nightcrawlers, perished int he fire as well._

_Another conflict happened. He was sure the two races had banded against his people and society for the crystals under their sacred tree. He would not move, despite what our king asked, and was furious. Our king, whose too prideful, do not want to apologize nor stop. The leader of the Nightcrawlers are stuck in between, agitated by the fight._

_The kingdom crumbled, and our King issued a war._

_In 5224, the war began, and we march with our weapons or tungsten and cannons and force fields powered with crystals and swords and shields and javelin. We waited for them. Our King waited for them to surrender and give us their land._

_Until we realize we were fighting something dark and ominous._

_We were wiped clean. Their magic is too powerful for us, they cast spells that nothing can stop, penetrating through our metallic weapons. Our king was slain. Roars of ghastly, demonic beings shook through the land. The Jetrenekth no longer have green eyes. They were purple, their movements were erratic and their magic was that of the deepest, darkest from hell._

_We don't know what had happened._

_In the midst of war, we noticed something. They cannot penetrate through the crystal powered force fields._

_What was left of the army was safe in it._

_But not their families._

_They did not stop. They went to villages and attacked and destroy without remorse. Very few survived from the event, and those in further lands have escaped and hid in places they never noticed._

_And in a span of a week, there were very few of us. When the Rain comes, they were gone._

_Those that remained gathered and realized that they had pillaged everything._

_They took our technology, they took our hard work. _

_We were left under the rain by ourselves. _

_What was left of us started to go to the Capital. They managed to breach in, but the Rain drove them away. We gathered everything we can find, and raided the castle to get what we have left. When the soldiers open the vault of the king to get steel and materials for weapons, we found them. Crystals, crystals everywhere in beautiful colors, untouched._

_And with any of working transports we can find, we carried away every single one of them. _

_It's not like our King needed them anymore._

* * *

"We appointed several leaders over what remained from the Enstes, and long story short, they found a way to weaponize the crystals." Nohl gestured to his arm-blade. "They are shields against dark magic and is very durable. We don't really have a lot of them, so most are made for weapons, and we return to older technology. It wasn't so bad."

"I have a question, though." Brennan, who sat on the ground for pretty much the entire talk, frowned in confusion. "...What... are technology?"

"They are machines powered by some sort of power source, mostly electricity. They help us with everyday lives."

"...Like.. redstone?'

"...I have no idea what you are talking about."

There was some rustling nearby, and a familiar noise of something teleporting.

Nohl's eyes quickly darted to a direction before he went on all fours and forcefully pushed Brennan's head down, earning a hiss from the older male.

"What on earth are you doing?!"

"Stop being so noisy! Get your head under the bushes!"

Brennan quickly turned onto his stomach and looked through the direction of what Nohl was staring at. There are three endermen on the other side of the stream, chirping. They were standing on the tallest rock there is on that side, and looking around, their particles glistening in the darkness. One chirped before teleporting away several blocks down the stream, careful to not get water splashed at them.

Brennan scoffed, raising an eyebrow.

"Really, kid? You told me to get down because of some endermen?"

"They are scouts," Nohl glared back. "They probably are acting dumb and pretend they don't know I'm here. But they don't have cameras everywhere. Too suspicious. Which is why they have them."

"Cameras? You sure talk a lot of bogus," Brennan muttered softly. Truthfully, he doesn't understand most of what Nohl was explaining in the beginning. He just wanted to know about his own family, but well, guess he got a history lesson from a semi-insane kid. "What in the Nether are cameras again?"

"Shh," Nohl warned. "Look, their actual guardians are so much scarier than those things. They're probably using that form to not scare you so much. You know. More 'docile-looking'?"

"Docile. They are anything but docile once you look into their eyes." Brennan huffed.

"True enough. They hate it when you stare at their soul."

"What?" Brennan turned at him sharply.

"We got to get rid of them. But it's going to be problem if they see me."

Brennan didn't say anything, and Nohl raised a brow at him, as if expecting something. When the other still doesn't seem to make any movements, Nohl cleared his throat.

"...Well?"

"...What do you want me to do?" Brennan turned at him, gazing accusingly at him. "I don't have armor on, I can't take all three of them!"

Nohl pinched the bridge of his nose. He took some seconds to recollect himself, before finally exhaling through his nose.

"...Really?"

Brennan nodded.

"Besides, you have that crystal weapon. What are you so scared about?"

"Did you just heard what I said?! We'll be in trouble if they spot me!"

"Then don't get spotted!"

_This man_, Nohl thought, his eye twitches slightly. _Is a total wimp._

"Fine, stay here and watch, god, why do I have to babysit such a..." The rest was displeased mumbles.

Nohl pulled an ender pearl out of his inventory. Truthfully, this is such a waste of resources, but well, if it's his fate to teach a wimp a thing or two, then so be it.

He chucked it over the bushes onto a tree and was instantly teleported there above them. The scouts didn't seem to notice, and he dropped to the ground behind the tree.

He had one shot.

Nohl crouched before he moved to the other side of the tree to think. They are almost on the same line, and are beside a stream.

One shot was all he needed.

Brennan just stared as the kid seemed to vanish from his spot and the endermen's legs were cut clean off, and their bodies falling onto the stream with a screech. His eyes quickly looked around to spot the kid behind a tree several blocks from where he was, watching as the endermen were swept away. They tried to teleport but mostly falling back down to the stream, screeching.

Once they seem to disappear down the stream, Nohl ran back, jumping from one rock to another to each the other end of the stream.

"Well now they're gonna send more this way, and I just lost a pearl I needed. So your wish is granted, you got to go home."

Brennan stood up quickly.

"All we need to do is go up and follow this stream." He informed. "Then we'll get there and I will finally eat something nice."

Nohl rolled his eyes.

"When we get there, all we need to gather is food, extra clothes, your diamond tools and armor, and three buckets of water. Our journey isn't going to be easy."

Brennan nodded slowly.

Nohl wiped his blade and folded it back to his arm blade and walked up, following the stream to where Brennan's supposed house was. When he heard no footsteps he turned around, to see Brennan still standing there.

"What? Are you going to stay here?"

Brennan just blinked.

"Why me?" He asked. "Why don't you pick someone who probably have more adventure spirit than me...? I know I am someone my brother lost, then why not save me when everything is over?"

Nohl's brows furrowed a bit.

"Then how long are you going to be so pathetic?" He finally voiced his thoughts out, his tone stern.

"Huh?"

Nohl crossed his arms.

"The reason I know about this world is because I have been in different cubes trying to find you. I see everyone finally had a huge home, good supply of food, enchanted weapons, and armor that makes them not fear anything. Until they are succumbed to something called apathy."

He continued before Brennan can retort.

"When you have literally everything you need and you have nothing to worry about, you become arrogant. This sort of life is bland and stale. It started hard at first when you have nothing. Now you have everything, you forgot how does it feel surviving and trying to stay alive, scavenging food and hunting and defending yourself. You opted to stay home and make yourself a cup of hot milk and laze about. You feel bored, but you are too comfortable you are reluctant to exchange that boredom with something exciting.

"And now a change is going to happen in your life. You don't want to take it because, what, you said you don't want to die, do you? I have seen some of these 'players' die so easily, falling off a cliff or accidentally burning themselves in lava. I know. Lame, isn't it? You want to die just because you did a small mistake instead of dying satisfied with yourself? Seriously, what have you achieved here? Nobody is around to appreciate it. Nobody's around for you to share its joy with others. You are alone here. But there are a lot of chances for you out there."

"I will still die," Brennan objected quietly. "I don't want to die."

"Neither do I." Nohl's tone softened. It's true then. Despite Brennan being here for a long time, his mindset is still of a little boy.

He doesn't blame him for that. It's not his fault.

"Look, I am not dragging you out there to die. I will teach you how to survive, and I will protect you. I may not know you, but have a promise to keep, and when I am not around, you can take care of yourself. So just believe in me, and trust me, you'd realize through change, you will be a better person. I've seen people who does change for the better. It's all up to you."

Nohl turned around.

"So don't lie to yourself. What is it you truly want? Would you rather be here alone, in a bland world, or would you rather follow me out of this fake paradise?"

The steve didn't say a word as he followed him, lost in his own thoughts, and the journey back home was silent.

* * *

**And uh... an informative chapter? **

**QnA:**

_xEnderAwesomex_**: Thank you c: **

**Thanks for reading!**


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